


i hate your cat (but you're okay, i guess)

by skeletalparade (boythighs)



Series: let's get started [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Silly, probably not but oh well, shmoop? did i spell that right?, some really silly shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boythighs/pseuds/skeletalparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happens, it's a searing hot day in the middle of July, and Haru has every window in his apartment opened wide, because the ventilation in the building is so shitty that air conditioning just won't cut it. There's not even much of a breeze, but every little bit helps. Lots of bugs decide to make a home in <em>his</em> home, which is to be expected. Open windows equals bugs. There's no rocket science behind that. What is not expected, however, is for Haru to find a puff of white fur curled atop his bed when he steps in as the evening is drawing to a close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i hate your cat (but you're okay, i guess)

**Author's Note:**

> i recently got super into free! two years too late, basically. but i took an almost immediate shining to this pairing, as well as reigisa (jesus take the wheel).
> 
> so when i asked for prompts and my dearest friend dani gave me the prompt "you live on the same apartment floor as me but i dont know ur name but ur cat always finds its way into my home," it was an opportunity i simply could not pass up. my makoharu gears started turning, and, thus, this was born. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy it, bae. :*

◈

The first time it happens, it's a searing hot day in the middle of July, and Haru has every window in his apartment opened wide, because the ventilation in the building is so shitty that air conditioning just won't cut it. There's not even much of a breeze, but every little bit helps. Lots of bugs decide to make a home in _his_ home, which is to be expected. Open windows equals bugs. There's no rocket science behind that. What is not expected, however, is for Haru to find a puff of white fur curled atop his bed when he steps in as the evening is drawing to a close.

Wide eyes blinking, Haru eyes the suspicious fur ball, which breathes steadily – in, out, in, out – and does not budge a bit except to peek up at him through a single slitted, brilliantly azure eye when he pads over to the bed. An ear twitches, a tail flicks, and Haru does not _own_ a cat, but it occurs to him that the case is most likely that it wandered in through the window leading out onto the fire escape. He sighs. Finding this thing's owner is going to be a pain; a lot of people live in this building, and a _lot_ of them own cats. What's more–

A heaving sneeze rocks his body, a hand coming up immediately to swipe at his leaking nose, drip, drip, dripping like a faucet.

Haru has a _cat allergy._ This is all so extremely troublesome.

As he approaches the cat, it grows more tense, and when he's a mere foot away the animal is all but ready to strike, looking monstrous and more pissed off than any household pet has the right to be.

“Calm down,” Haru says, mouth pinched into a tight frown. “You have to let me touch you. We have to take you home.” Wherever home is. Even so, the cat simply seems to want nothing to do with Haru. He extends a hand, the cat lashes out. He tries again, and the cat growls so lowly in its chest that Haru is afraid it really is going to bite him – or worse, latch onto his face like the cats in those old 90s cartoons. That would absolutely _wreck_ his poor nasal cavities.

Back and forth, this goes on for at least ten minutes, until finally Haru has had enough and just reaches out with no further hesitation, niceties forgotten as he scoops the damn thing up and ignores the fact that it's clawing at his arms, hissing at him like a vicious monster. Easier said than done, really, when the scratches sting and the hissing is loud. _Very_ loud. So loud, in fact, that it drowns out the sound of someone stepping out onto the fire escape. As Haru fusses and battles with the stranger cat, he fails to realize that he has an audience of one until said party laughs a little, causing Haru to jump in shock. Haru immediately looks out towards the fire escape, eyes sharp, the claws imbedded in his shoulders even sharper.

“Can I help you?” The stranger, a tall man with brown hair and emerald eyes that crinkle at the corners when he laughs, that stay crinkled when he smiles, just points at the _demon_ in his arms.

“You seem to have found my cat.” He says, and Haru glances down at the creature he's holding, then back up to the man.

“This beast is _your_ cat?” It earns him another laugh, bright and happy, filling Haru's bedroom, and filling something cold in his chest to the brim with warmth. Wait, what? That makes no sense. Strike that from the records. There is _nothing_ inside of Haru warming, unless you count the internal bleeding that the cat has caused, and even if there was, there's no reason why laughter would fill it.

“Yeah, she's mine. She sort of has a nasty mean streak when it comes to new people.” Looking sheepish, he makes to come in, though he pauses briefly to look at Haru, seeking permission. Haru does him one better, meeting him halfway to pass the vermin off. She instantly stills in her owner's arms, going as far as purring, which makes Haru narrow his eyes down at her. Wow, okay. Useless animal.

“Maybe she should think better of wandering into random apartments, then.”

“You're probably right.” Yet another sheepish laugh. Is that all this man does? Laugh and look adorable while doing it?

Wait. Adorable? That's not an appropriate word at all. Haru means _annoying_. The constant laughter is absolutely _annoying_.

“Anyway, I'm just glad she didn't go far. We stay upstairs, in the apartment right above this one.”

“Right.”

The monosyllabic answer effectively halts the conversation, which is fine, but the awkward atmosphere is almost enough to make Haru feel bad for being so anti-social. Clearing his throat, the man angles himself back toward the window, still so fucking sheepish – god, Haru is _so_ annoyed, so, so _annoyed_ – as he makes his way back out.

“Thanks again for finding my cat.” Haru nods wordlessly, unsure of what he should say. _You're welcome_ sounds wrong, since technically the cat found _him_ , and Haru is just really not good with conversation. Social situations stress him out and make him nervous. Rin calls it social anxiety, Haru usually just tells him to shut the fuck up.

After another lingering moment of smiling and soft, piercing green eyes, the man is making his way back up the fire escape. Watching him go, Haru notes, for the first time, that he's wearing a pair of sweatpants that make his ass look deliciously good. Thinking this makes him feel so guilty and creepy that he's certain he deserves the way his throat itches later, and how his nose is running for the rest of the night.

◈

After that, and because the unbearable heat does not offer them even a second of respite, meaning his windows are open more often than not, the visitations of the cat become more and more frequent. Sometimes she shows up while Haru is in the bath – which take way too long, according to Rin, but, again, Rin can shut the fuck up – and sometimes she shows up while Haru is actually in the room. On these occasions she sits on the fire escape, staring through the open window until Haru actually goes out of the room. When he comes back, she has claimed his spot on the bed as her own, tail waving lackadaisically to and fro. If anything, Haru is thankful for the visits because they mean that his neighbor has to come down and retrieve her, every single time.

Not that Haru has come to look forward to it, or anything. It's just that it's always relieving that he takes the cat off of Haru's hands. After all, Haru has never in his life had to spend so much of his hard earned money on allergy medicines and Kleenex. When the man comes down to get the cat, they generally talk for a little while. Their exchanges are amiable, and Haru learns some stuff about his neighbor that he probably wouldn't have otherwise. Probably wouldn't have _cared_ to, either, but that's besides the point.

He's a kindergarten teacher at an elementary school about half an hour out, and the commute really isn't so bad because the scenery along the way is very nice. He's twenty-five years old, just a few months younger than Haru, has no children of his own, has never even so much as been married, and isn't currently seeing anyone. Not that it's relevant. At all. It's just nice to know things about your neighbors. Especially when their annoying cat keeps breaking into your apartment.

However, there is one thing that's been starting to bug Haru, as of late. Something that he finds himself considering more and more as their camaraderie continues on. Because Haru knows a lot about this man, enough to maybe even address him as a _friend_ , and he knows the name of his cat now – Ama-chan – but...

Well, Haru doesn't know _his_ name. It's been practically a month since this whole thing started, a month of dealing with that damn cat and this horrible, never ending sneezing and coughing combination from Hell, an entire month of talking to the man, and Haru doesn't even have a damn _name_ to call him in the middle of the night when he's jacking off thinking about his ass in those fucking _sweats_ and–

This train of thought got derailed so fast.

The point is – Haru doesn't know his name, but he finds himself wanting to. Which is so unlike him.

Haru rolls over to stifle his groan into his pillow, inhaling cat danger and immediately sneezing out a glob of snot. _Ugh_.

◈

So Haru steels his resolve and promises that the next time the guy shows up to get his cat, he's absolutely going to introduce himself. For sure. Everything is going to be perfect – he'll get the guy's name, then they can start being friends for real, and maybe even go out for coffee. Platonically, of course.

Which means that it's just his luck that soon after he's made this decision, the summer rains are ushered in with a mighty storm that shuts down all the power in the building. The world is out to get him. No, scratch that – the _universe_ is out to get him. When the power goes out, Haru lights a few candles – ones that he's not even sure why he has; probably gag gifts from Rin, who should shut the fuck up. It doesn't really matter how he's acquired them, he's just glad he has them at all. There's not a speck of light outside; the wind isn't so much howling as it is shrieking, water pounding on all of the windows around the apartment, so it's not his fault that he misses it at first. Sitting on his bed with a candle on the side table, a book in his hands, it takes him a good five minutes before he registers that the light _tap-tap-tapping_ against his window isn't rain water at all.

It's Ama-chan.

Leaping from the bed in a rush, Haru undoes the locks on his window and jerks it up, staring at the cat with wide eyes as it bounds into his bedroom, shivering and mewling pitifully. Not even seconds later, his upstairs neighbor is all but sliding down the ladder of the fire escape, slipping and falling flat onto his ass. Haru stares at him, too, totally confused.

“What–?” But he cuts himself off, realizing that not only is he letting in the torrential downpour, but the longer he stands gawking, the wetter the other man gets. Haru reaches out and pulls his stumbling body into the room, hurriedly shutting the window. He can lock it later – he's more concerned about what on earth is going on at the moment. Which is a question he vocalizes. Quite loudly, and with some admittedly colorful language.

“I forgot to lock my window.” The other says quietly. “It's not like yours – it opens up inwards, it's not the kind you push up. So by forgetting to lock it, I was also neglecting to acount for the fact that enough wind can blow it open. Which it did. And Ama-chan took it as a chance to make her great escape.”

Ama-chan blinks up at Haru innocently, like she isn't soaked down to the bone, and like she hasn't inflicted that same travesty upon her owner, who is standing in the middle of Haru's bedroom dripping water onto his spotless carpet. It's not so much that _that_ matters to Haru; it's more that his neighbor is starting to shiver a little himself, and so it's only right that Haru goes to his closet and tries to find something that might fit his guest.

Between them there is a fair amount of height difference, and a size difference to boot. Where Haru's shoulders are more wiry and less prominent, this man's are wider, more built. Something that Haru likes to admire, on his own time, when he's alone and doesn't have to deny the attraction to anyone. Finding something he thinks will do the least amount of damage, he tosses it to the man, then fishes out a pair of spare sweatpants. His ass won't look nearly as good in Haru's, but it's better than watching him freeze to death.

“Bathroom is right down the hall. There are towels under the sink.” Haru mumbles, getting a small smile in return.

“Thank you.” When he goes, the cat stays behind, surprisingly. Just the two of them, Ama-chan stares up at Haru almost knowingly. _Yeah, that's right, you've got the hots for my owner and I totally know it._

“Shut up.” Haru grumps, ignoring her as he stomps out of the room and heads into his kitchen. With no power, he can't make coffee or tea, but he does have some bottled water, at least. Not that there's any shortage of water to go around. Still, he grabs two and parks himself on the couch, waiting until the man from upstairs wanders into the living room to join him, mumbling his appreciation when Haru extends him one of the bottles. Ama-chan jumps onto the couch and squeezes in between them, making herself at home on the cushions. It's odd, but Haru thinks that maybe this place _has_ become a home away from home for her, as often as she hangs around. She's even warmed up to Haru considerably, letting him touch her now without the constant scratching and bitching.

Quiet falls upon them, the two men staring straight ahead and out of the window opposite the couch, beside the TV. Haru knows that the man could leave. He could go out the door properly, this time, instead of barging in through the window. He could take the stairs back up to the next floor since the elevator isn't working. But he doesn't. That has to mean something.

It has to mean that he _likes_ being around Haru. Just thinking that makes Haru's palms sweaty, and he quickly wipes the moisture off on his own pants. Stealing a glance up at the man seated on his couch, Haru takes a deep, steadying breath.

This is it. This has to be it. Haru is either going to do this right now, right this very instant, or he's going to miss the perfect opportunity. And he could let it slip by. And maybe he _should_. Maybe it would be better if they just stayed acquaintances, but, god, Haru doesn't _want_ that. He maybes wants a lot more of the _opposite_. It's unreasonable and uncouth and illogical – on every single account, Haru flounders for a reason why they should try and take this any further, but since when has _logic_ ever mattered to him?

“My name is Haru.” The outburst catches the other off guard, and he looks like a deer in its final moments when it sees those oncoming headlights, all wide-eyed and slack jawed and beautiful and _god_ , Haru really, _really_ wants to kiss that ridiculously stupid look right off his face, replace it with a flustered look of awe instead, kiss him until his cheeks are stained red and his pupils are swallowing up that gorgeous green. But he doesn't, because he still needs a fucking name. Once he has that, Haru is not holding himself responsible for what he may or may not do next.

The look on the other's face blends from shock smoothly into a warm smile, eyes rounded at their sharp edges, a chuckle resonating in his chest before he responds. “I'm Makoto.”

 _Makoto_.

“That suits you.” Realizing what he's said but being incapable of taking it back, Haru screws his mouth shut and quickly looks away. _That suits you._ What the hell does that even _mean_? Thinking he's probably blown it, because _honestly_ , Haru turns back around to apologize, hoping he doesn't look nearly as mortified as he feels. Only to find that Makoto is still smiling at him, a pleasant rosiness to his cheeks that wasn't there just a moment ago.

“Haru suits you, too.”

God, Haru is so fucking fucked.

The cat between them makes a puffing noise in her sleep, and the room falls silent again. It's not a bad silence, though; it's comforting, nice. Despite the fact that Haru's heart is hammering away in his chest, he feels almost at ease. He's never noticed it before, but it usually works like that around Makoto. Talking to him is easy, stress free, and Haru actually enjoys it. The only other person he's ever felt that way around is Rin, but he's never once in his life wanted to kiss Rin into an incoherent state of stupidity. Unless you counted those times in college, but he _doesn't_ , and he _won't_. Drunken nights shared between friends _stay_ between friends. Even ones that have had their dick in your mouth.

They stay right there, still, quiet, and looking at each other. Haru's mouth suddenly feels too dry and too full all at once, tongue coated in words he wishes he knew how to say. Nothing has ever prepared him for this kind of moment, though, where everything is all jumbled up in his head and he can't make heads or tails of any of it. So many things he wants to ask – _can I have your number? Will you go on a date with me? Can we see each other even when your cat isn't ruining my fucking life with her stupid fur and saliva and general existence?_ But he doesn't say any of that.

Makoto is the first one to look away, glancing down at the bottle in his hands that he still hasn't bothered opening. He has a lovely profile, Haru thinks, specifically when his cheeks are red, and the collar of Haru's borrowed shirt is too tight along his neckline. Slightly damp hair falls into his face when he ducks his head, laughing quietly and to himself. “You know,” Makoto says softly. “The first time I saw you, I really wanted to ask you your name. But you looked so pissed off about Ama-chan that I thought better of it. I didn't think it would become a recurrence.”

“But you're glad that it did.” Haru murmurs, filling in the blanks. Though he adds, almost imperceptibly, after a moment, “You're glad that it did?” Because he wants to be sure. One hundred percent, absolutely certain.

And when Makoto lifts his head, a startling bright smile adorning pink lips, Haru has his answer even before Makoto has uttered a single word. “I'm very glad that it did.” Laughing, Makoto ducks his head back down, embarrassed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

“Still doesn't explain why neither of us ever asked _after_ the first time, when it _did_ turn into a habit.”

Startled, Makoto jerks his head up and laughs. That same laugh from the first time they'd met. Haru still hasn't heard a more beautiful sound, doubts that he ever will – but he does, at least, now have the hope that he'll continue hearing it. “Yeah, you've definitely got me there.”

Outside, the rain has started to let up a little. Soon the power will turn back on, and Makoto will go back up to his own home. Who knows how long it'll be before they have this kind of uninterrupted time together again, in this calm, settled atmosphere? Without the damn cat interfering.

“From now on, you should come in through the front door.”

Makoto looks just about as shocked as Haru when the words come out of his mouth, because there's definitely no mistaking what Haru means. It's a clear invitation for Makoto to actually visit, to show up unannounced and without Ama-chan giving him reason to. Makoto's answering smile is small and private, and this might be Haru's favorite one yet.

“I think I'll take you up on that.”

Haru looks down in a hurry to hide his own smile, watching the steady rise and fall of Ama-chan's breathing, and guesses that maybe the useless hell spawn was good for something after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> for anyone that wants to follow me for a bunch of reigisa and free! nonsense in general, my tumblr is elvenharu! i'm always accepting prompts. thanks for reading!


End file.
